


The Melting Identity of a Gray

by AHS_Butterfly



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Apocalypse
Genre: F/M, Friendship/Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:53:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21846229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AHS_Butterfly/pseuds/AHS_Butterfly
Summary: This is an AU story for Michael and Mallory if they would of met in the past before the Apocalypse, becoming friends or more. My Mallory is also an empath, still developing her powers. Upon discovering their relationship, and after she had seen to Ms. Mead's demise by fire along with the Warlock Council, Cordelia saw to it that the identity spell was done early to not only keep Mallory safe from him so she could complete the plan to stop the Anti-Christ but to also punish Michael. Thus causing the apocalypse  through Michael's wrath thinking he not only lost his Ms. Mead but the only other person who had cared for him genuinely without ever using him. His only friend or perhaps more.Years later after thinking Mallory was dead, her soul hidden away... Michael has come to Outpost 3 conducting interviews to see who was worth for his Sanctuary. Mallory's memory of being a witch and ever having met Michael had been erased from the identity spell. After Mallory's catastrophic interview with Michael, she had left him confused, frightened and unable to sleep. After Coco had awakened her hours early before her shift to fetch her some water, she ends up at Michael's door just as he is about to exit into her path.
Relationships: Michael Langdon/Mallory
Comments: 1
Kudos: 21





	The Melting Identity of a Gray

Coco had woken Mallory four hours earlier than she was supposed to, shaking her arm, startling her. No one else was awake. 

"I’m parched Mallory! It’s so cold out in the hallways. Get me a water! Hurry, wake up!!" Coco insisted urgently.

Mallory felt like she had not slept at all after that disastrous interview with Michael. She had tossed and turned the entire night, fighting with herself within as if something was trying to drive its way out from deep within her. She sat up quickly gasping for air, her blankets now thrown on the floor as she shivered in her long white Victorian nightgown getting up reluctantly out of her warm bed.

"Am I going crazy?" She said to herself as she looked into the mirror in the bathroom, splashing cool water upon pale features before grabbing a robe to make way out into the chilled hallways of the Outpost. She wasn’t sure what was real. Or if what had happened the night before during the interview with Michael had all been a bad dream. She just knew Michael wouldn’t choose her for the sanctuary after that train wreck of an interview. 

She couldn’t shake a familiar feeling, of deja vu, when Michael had spoken with her right before the chaos instilled then. As soon as he had brushed his long ringed fingers along her delicate jaw line, it was as if something inside of her was trying to tell her that she wasn’t who everyone thought she was. And that she knew Michael somewhere, somehow. But she was frightened. Unbeknown to her, the fear was just a way the identity spell worked to repress her memories. She was afraid of who she was deep inside. The manifestation of power coming from her only made her more frightened of who she was or could be. She remembered the look of shock on Michael’s face. What if she had hurt him? She didn’t want to harm anyone. How could someone so small and meek like her hold so much power? And how could something like that even exist? It was something she had only seen in comic movies.

But there was something else that bothered her. She could feel his confusion and intrigue at the same time ever since she had felt the stroke of his fingers upon her flesh. Mallory had always been one to care about others, even that bitch Coco, but this was an entirely different experience. It was as if she could feel what he was feeling when he had contact with her directly. And at first it had chilled her to the core. But there was something else deeper, something that had saddened her. It was like a vice upon her heart and thinking about it now, she felt sympathy for him wanting to know why she felt these things and why he would feel that way.

She must of imagined all of this! Was she going crazy? She could swear this place did something to her. All she had felt ever since she had arrived was an impeding melancholy that saturated the walls and halls of the outpost. She felt as grey inside as her clothing. 

And now she felt she would be one of the ones left behind, to die of starvation or be eaten by the cannibals. Already she was hungry all of the time ever since Venable had cut their food portions to once a day. Mallory didn’t want to die, but who would want a lowly grey anyway to help in the creation of this new world that Michael had described to her in the interview. She was never tenacious, or the type that would burn down the Tree of Knowledge, using it for firewood like he had stated. She was meek and mild, kind, and had tried to not be noticed. Getting noticed here got you killed. The others seemed to be trying everything possible to get Michael’s attention, so that they would be selected to go with him to this so-called sanctuary. But all she wanted to do was hide from him.

She dried her face, her eyes weary and fatigued as she walked out of her door and out into the hallway. She knew her place, and it wasn’t the sanctuary. She wanted to try to get some more sleep after fetching the water for Coco so she put on her gray robe over her nightgown trying to stay warm, her long golden honey brown locks falling passed her shoulders now out of that ridiculous bun. It was cold throughout the corridors at night. She made way down from the top level of the stairs in a spiral that would lead to the main floor hoping that no one was awake yet to bother with her. She gathered up the mineral water, placing it on a silver tray. She made way down the corridor near Michael’s room.

Mallory could sense Michael with every footstep he took near the bedroom entrance, even before he had opened the door. She could feel it, that darkness that had gripped her heart from before yet it was familiar, inviting to her in a way that she couldn’t put her finger on. There was something at the heart of it and she knew this time she must not run away no matter how much that feeling of something clawing at her from inside of her that she felt.

But when he had suddenly opened the door, his oceanic gaze had startled her. The fear inside of her had returned, repressing any inkling of her former self from revealing herself, preventing the identity spell from being broken. She almost dropped the silver tray, the bottle of water rolling on the floor meeting Michael’s black shiny shoes. 

She carefully bent down to retrieve it, placing the tray carefully down against the wall. She stood up slowly, never breaking his gaze, trying not to tremble. Why was he so familiar to her? Still she had not wanted to bring attention to herself, especially from Mr. Michael Langdon. But she was the only one within his view. She could smell him, taking in his scent as she stood up to face him, her petite height barely making it to his chin. To her he smelled of burnt cedar and honey, a curious scent to be sure for the mysterious young man with the golden locks. Everything else had smelled the same dull dusty scent in this place, except for Michael. A gray scent. A scent as gray and dull as she felt inside.

"Mr. Langdon! You startled me. Coco required water. I know it’s very early, too early. But she insisted." Mallory realized she was not properly dressed in her gray dress uniform at this hour. Her hair was not up in it’s usually required tight bun. It was flowing freely in honey brown waves, framing her porcelain face. And now her cheeks were turning shades of the rose out of embarrassment. She looked rather different from her usual appearance in the darkened hallways of the Outpost.

She hoped he wouldn’t remember all that had happened in the interview. She hoped to all that was holy that it had been a dream, a hallucination. But if it had been real, how could he possibly forget? How could she? She had almost seriously hurt him, or so she had thought. She felt simply terrible despite the fear returning in the pit of her stomach. She had that instinct to run from Michael again but she made herself stay put. In the back of her mind was a long lost memory of words she heard in her own voice. She closed her eyes and heard it more clearly, the words 'I WON’T RUN… I WILL NEVER LEAVE. YOU WILL NEVER BE ALONE AGAIN…' She felt her heart pounding now. What was happening?

She uttered some of these words out loud to him now. "I won’t run… I will never leave." Her gaze became more intense glittering with both a certain innocence and wisdom. 

She cleared her throat, cheeks turning crimson. "I’m sorry about earlier. I don’t know if what I saw was real." She recalled his true face in her mind. But for some reason that wasn’t what had frightened her. What had frightened her was feeling her true self coming out. It seemed to only happen around him. And she was beginning to feel it again now. She wanted to leave but the voice in her head would not let her this time. Her heart would not let her.

"Was it real?" Her eyes welled up with tears which she tried to hide, blinking quickly through the frames of her glasses. 


End file.
